


Secret Life of A Narrator

by Pineprin137



Category: Original Work
Genre: Not really sure what to put here...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 10:16:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18990658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pineprin137/pseuds/Pineprin137
Summary: What happens when the narrator goes off script.





	Secret Life of A Narrator

**Author's Note:**

> I saw a prompt online and decided to challenge myself. The prompt was "A narrator comes to the story late and has no idea what's going on." I took this one step further and decided to write the narrator as the story is being told. There are no specified genders or species. The characters are meant to be vague. 
> 
> Italics are the actual narration.

_Bartholomew--_

 

“Bartholomew? What kind of pansy name is Bartholomew?”

 

_...was a sheep. He was a sheep who was blessed with pink wool._

 

“Seriously! A pink sheep! Ugh, this story sucks.”

 

_All the other sheeps were jealous of his pink wool--_

 

“Who are we kidding? Bart is obviously a loser! No one wants to hang with him because he’s weird. They aren’t jealous of his girly wool, they’re staying away from the freak. This is so dumb. Who wants to read a story about a sheep anyway? Maybe I can still salvage this…”

 

_One day, Ol’ Bart decided that he was going to move on to greener pastures. Leave the other sheeps in his dust! Bart walked back, wiggled his fluffy...pink...butt and then charged forward and hopped over the fence. Bart turned to look at the wimpy sheeps left on the other side and said, “See ya, suckers!” The other sheeps didn’t understand why Ol’ Bart wanted to leave but figured he must have a good reason since he was way more cool than they would ever be so they all wiggled their little fluffy butts and hopped over the fence too. And when Farmer Joe came to pick a sheep for his supper they were all gone._

 

“Ha! Perfect!”

“What...are you doing?”

“I’m obviously in the middle of narrating The Littlest Sheep.”

“You’re narrating The Lit...please tell me that is another of your unhumorous jokes?”

“...”

“Oh good heavens! You can’t just-- I gave you an easy one! It’s a bedtime story for crying out loud! How could you possibly manage to mess up The Littlest Sheep? Oh, wait, I know! Because it’s YOU!”

“...”

“Well? Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?!”

“When I begged you earlier to give me a different one, YOU said I should just focus on finishing the story. So I did! You told me to look deep down for inspiration on the missing ending. I did and I found it. Sheeps suck--”

“Sheep.”

“What?”

“The plural of sheep is sheep. Not sheeps.”

“Whatever! Like I was saying, Bart leaves those losers behind. They follow him because their pathetic and don’t want to be eaten by Farmer Joe. The End.”

“How did you even pass the test for narration when you have terrible gram...wait. Did you say...eaten? Oh geez, please tell me you did not put...murder...into a level one story?”

“Dinner.”

“...of course you did.”

“It's not murder. The farmer would be eating them for dinner.”  

“I don’t...even know how to respond to that.”

“Ugh, the POINT is that I did everything YOU told me to do.”

“ME?! I didn’t tell you to butcher a level one story by including MURDER!”

“Not. Murder. DINNER! Actually, it’s probably more of a sacrifice... But that doesn’t matter because this is all YOUR fault anyway.”

“MY FAULT?! I GAVE YOU THE EASIEST ONE ON THE SHELF!”

“I didn't ask for an easy one! Who wants a BABY story?! THEY SUCK!”

“...”

“...”

“...Doris.”

“...what?”

“Doris loves the children’s section; she actually prefers bedtime stories.”

“Doris?! You want me to be like _Doris?_  Doris's stories put everyone to sleep!”

“They’re bedtime stories...They’re supposed to!”

“Whatever! They still suck.”

“Just--finish the story...the right way! Do that and maybe, MAYBE, I will give you a level two next time. Got it?”

“...Fine.”

“Fine.”

 

_Bartholomew was a sheep. A sheep blessed with pretty...pink wool. All the other sheep were jealous of his beautiful wool. They wanted to have beautiful wool too. But Bartholomew knew that deep down it wasn't just the color of wool that made someone beautiful. Each and every sheep in the pasture was beautiful in their own way. Wendy could jump over the fence in a single bound and Romero knew where to find the best-tasting alfalfa. So Bartholomew gathered up his friends and reminded them that just because their wool wasn’t a pretty pink color, it didn’t mean they were beautiful and special just like him._

 

“There. Happy?”

“Yes. Nicely done. It was lovely.”

“Boring.”

“Excuse me?”

“It was...boring!”

“Yes, well, regardless...you did what I asked so I suppose…”

“Yeah...”

“Tomorrow I can spare a level two--”

"Really?" 

"--that has a dragon...and a knight."

“YES!”

“I’m going to regret this…”   

**Author's Note:**

> I hope it wasn't too confusing. I just wanted to see if I could pull off a story with no gender specifics or clues as to the characters' actual identities.


End file.
